


Proper

by queenhomeslice



Series: The Cleaning Girl [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Chubby Reader, Curvy Reader, Ficlet, Gen, Good Parent Regis Lucis Caelum, Reader-Insert, Sassy Clarus Amicitia, approval, plus size reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:13:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21672025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenhomeslice/pseuds/queenhomeslice
Summary: Regis knows that Noct is up to something
Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Reader
Series: The Cleaning Girl [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1562332
Comments: 17
Kudos: 79





	Proper

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the context of Between a Broom and a Hard Place
> 
> _______  
> Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Square Enix or any production studios behind the Final Fantasy franchise or Final Fantasy XV; I am not making money from this work and I do not own the rights to FF in any way.

She’s emptying the trash in the king’s office when Regis himself saunters in, followed by his Shield, who lowers himself lazily into an armchair as the king sits in his cushioned black desk chair. The cleaning girl bows and whispers reverent greetings, shuffling quickly to her cart full of tools and cleaners and rags in order to putter about elsewhere. Regis chuckles and waves his hand, beckoning her to abandon her duty for only a moment. With her heart nearly thudding out of her chest, the cleaning girl walks over to Regis and keeps her head bowed as she utters “How may I serve my king?” 

Regis smiles. “Look at me, dear girl. You won’t turn to stone.” 

“You only wish you had that power,” huffs Clarus under his breath. 

“Quiet you!” laughs Regis affectionately. 

The cleaning girl smiles. It’s nice to hear her king light and jovial. She slowly lifts her gaze to her liege. Regis’s old eyes are tired but still sparkling with life, with magic. There’s a curiosity written across his face, but the cleaning girl can’t figure out why he wants to talk to her, of all people. 

“Your name is ______________, correct?” 

She nods shyly. “It is, your Majesty.” 

“I thought so.” Regis gives her a once-over. “My son talks about you.” 

The cleaning girl can’t even pretend that her face isn’t turning every shade of red that the Astrals created. She’s rolling through every possible outcome in her head, and they all end with the patch being snatched from the corner breast of her uniform and ordered out for treason for even daring to look at Prince Noctis. She looks down and away from her king, muttering breathlessly, “I am sure that his Highness speaks kindly of all of his staff.” 

The king chuckles. “Please look at me.” 

“I’m sorry, your Majesty,” she sniffs. “If I have done something to offend his Highness, or...” She can’t even look him in the eyes. Her lips are burning with the kiss that the prince never should’ve given her—but it felt so right, so magical, to fall asleep innocently in her prince’s arms. Noctis is _warm_ , and strong, and he’d tasted so sweet... 

“Quite the contrary,” says Regis, and even though she’s not looking at him, he doesn’t ask her to meet his gaze again. “I have noticed a brighter side to my son in these past few days than I have seen in a long time. Wouldn’t you say, Clarus?” 

“Hm,” Clarus hums. “Seems a bit different, yes.” 

“I have noticed him looking at you, speaking with you. I was finally able to wrangle some conversation out of him at dinner yesterday evening.” 

____________ nods. She’d set those places at the table herself, and had fretted over Noct’s silverware arrangements for fifteen minutes. She slowly looks at Regis again, heart beat sort of returning to normal, the looming threat of dismissal ebbing. 

The king grins so wide that his old, kind face wrinkles and dimples. “You would think that it’s not proper for a prince to fall in love with someone like you.” 

____________ shakes her head. “It isn’t,” she echoes, conversation going in the other direction she feared—banishment from even looking at Noctis ever again, much less engaging in scandalous physical contact. “Please, your Majesty, I...did you say in love? My lord, Prince Noctis isn’t...isn’t...” She can’t even say it. It’s too terrible, too wonderful to even entertain the thought. She’s an immigrant, a janitor. She’s not even high-class, or conventionally attractive. It’s inconceivable that... 

The king keeps smiling warmly. “I have been around long enough to read eyes and faces, to see unspoken desires and intent. I am the king, after all.” 

She nods. “You are very wise, your Majesty. Surely years of political discourse has sharpened your wit and intuition.” 

“Oh! I like this one,” booms Regis. “Did you hear that, Clarus? Sharp wit and intuition.” 

“Please, Miss ____________,” Clarus pleads. “The Citadel is barely large enough for his ego. Do not make his head any larger than it already is.” He smirks. 

____________ wants to laugh, but doesn’t think it’s appropriate. She tries to hide her quivering smile, covering her mouth to cough instead. 

“Treasonous old bastard,” Regis huffs as Clarus snickers. He turns back to the cleaning girl. “What I have been trying to say is that you need not fear contact from Noctis, or myself.” 

______________ bites her lip nervously. “Surely, as you said, it’s not proper for his Highness to...” 

“Noctis is an adult, yet still very wayward,” Regis sighs. “I only hope he’s grown enough to realize that toying with others’ feelings and hearts is not becoming of royalty. That’s the only thing not proper here.” He reaches up and takes her hands in his. 

She tries to shrink back. “Please, your Majesty, my hands are dirty from working...” 

“And such fine work they have been doing.” Regis bends and kisses the top of her hand. 

______________ flushes red again. “Your Majesty, what are you...!” 

“Merely praising an honored and trusted member of my staff,” he says as he releases her hands. He meets her gaze again, eyes twinkling. “You may finish your duties. And if that includes making my son happy, then so be it.” 

___________ merely stands there in wonder, holding the common dirty hand that Regis has just graced with royal lips, mind reeling with her king’s blessing. 


End file.
